until I am whole
by influenzae
Summary: Snapshots of life in North Dakota.


**Airplane**

"I just hope you know that you're his dad on my terms," Mandy said when Brian dozed off on her lap on the airplane. A fierceness crossed over her face as she pulled him incrementally closer. "I would die for him. I expect nothing less than for you to feel the same way."

Dennis let out a long breath, and looked down at his son. He was so small, especially in sleep, blonde like he and Dee were in baby pictures. The idea of death was something Dennis had always tried to ignore, a concern of mortals like premature ejaculation or overeating. The only skin Dennis was ever sure he would save would be his own.

His son stirred and yawned. The strange ache in Dennis's chest came back.

"Can I hold him?" Dennis asked. Mandy nodded, and helped Dennis settle the child on his lap. He wrapped his arms around Brian's stomach, and rested his chin on the small boy's head.

"Nothing is going to happen to you," murmured Dennis.

 **Chat**

They had had a layover in Minneapolis full of Brian fussing and Mandy's confusion at the smallest of tasks, reading the goddamn signs to their terminal, and despite its hustle and bustle, Dennis could tell they weren't in a city, not really. Someone had tried to strike up a discussion with him in the bathroom while he was taking a piss. The friendliness was disarming, full of a sincerity very different than the striking false-friendliness of Wally from the Suburbs. This man was really looking at him.

Dennis mentally checked his hands for a knife or his pockets for some sort of grenade. He thought ocular patdown, and a lump formed in his throat. Dennis pushed past the man without answering back. This wasn't the time for talking to strangers.

 **Hand**

"Take him," she ordered Dennis as she headed towards baggage claim, and suddenly Brian was in his arms again, warm and heavy, half asleep from the plane ride. He fluttered his eyes open, and looked around at his surroundings. Then, he started to scream.

"MOMMY! MOMMY! MOMMY!" His face turned red and contorted into anguish. Dennis nearly dropped him as he wriggled and squirmed. "DOWN! DOWN! MOMMY!"

"Mommy will be right back," said Dennis. His voice was shaking. Fuck.

Mandy looked up from baggage claim and looked over to Dennis, desperately trying to keep the wriggling toddler in his arms.

"He can walk!" she said as Dennis tried to juggle hanging on to him without breaking any of his bones by gripping him too tight. As if in response, Brian broke free of Dennis's arms and ran towards his mother. Dennis chased after him at a light jog, heart thrumming in his throat. Brian clung to his mother's leg; she gave Dennis an exasperated look as he approached.

"He's very fast," said Dennis.

"Brian, hold your father's hand," said Mandy. "Mommy needs to get our bags."

Tentatively, Brian held out his small hand and let go of Mandy's leg. Dennis took it in his own, and tugged him closer.

"Thanks buddy," he said, gripping a little more tightly.

 **Minot**

Minot's air was sharp that night, cold enough to choke on. The glass bottle of vodka between his legs was starting to make the inside of his thighs grow numb as he sat on Mandy's porch. To alleviate the numbness, he took another swig of it. The buzzing inside his head faded as the sharp liquor settled in his stomach. Fuck, that was good.

Dennis looked at the bottle, and swirled it around. Hopefully, he could cut it with water and by the time Mandy noticed the amount he had drank, he would be moved into a new place. Mandy had no idea that he was an alcoholic, and he didn't expect a North Dakota puritan to understand that he was fine, it was under control, he just needed a drink or two per day to stay healthy.

The wind whooshed through the pile of snow surrounding Mandy's driveway and blew the dirty flakes at his face. He wiped them away with a grimace. Disgusting. How anyone managed to settle this hellhole or why they would ever want to was a mystery. When he had asked Mandy why on earth she lived here, her only answer was, "Well, my family is here."

Most of Mandy's answers were like that, short and sweet, as if she was used to her life being unquestionably simple. Her family, she had told him, all lived within 50 miles of Minot. She could trace her lineage back through her great-great-grandparents by connecting the dots on a map – Minot, Towner, Garrison, Surrey. She had been a member of Minot First Lutheran Church since she was an infant, and Brian Jr. was baptized there too. No bastards existed in her family's lineage until Brian Jr. came along. The luxury of a simple lineage eluded her.

Dennis looked up at the sky. It was an eerie white, the color of wet cotton. Expansive skies eluded Philadelphia, punctured by glittering skyscrapers and neon signs. Here, in small-town America, the only things interrupting the unending monochrome sky were the glittering evergreen trees in Mandy's snowy front yard.

Somewhere, Dee and Mac and Charlie and Frank were cavorting in the streets with no mind on children or responsibility. Half a world away, his friends and family were drinking without care or judgement. Philadelphia – his home – belonged to them now.

In Minot, North Dakota, Dennis stood up and stretched his stiff muscles. He yawned, and ruffled his hair to get the snow out of it. It was time for him to get to bed.


End file.
